


Blood and String Impromptu

by attackstance



Category: SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Little Red Riding Hood Fusion, Bounty Hunters, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:08:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26841181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/attackstance/pseuds/attackstance
Summary: To clear his name of a string of disappearances, a lone wolf must work alongside a sanguine hunter who wants no less than his head.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 5
Kudos: 36





	Blood and String Impromptu

**Author's Note:**

> Greatly inspired by the _Darkstalkers_ series (particularly B.B. Hood and Jon Talbain). Contains anime-grade violence, humor, and sexual themes.
> 
> Also THANK YOU to Claire for reading over it for me I love you. ♥♥♥

At the edge of a wide-spanning praise, distanced from blooming human settlements, a verdant forest stands guard ahead of a stately mountain range—the Ebonwood. The river meandering around the mountains and through the trees acts as one several dividing lines between the creatures who protect the forest. Throughout the temperate region of Müner, the Ebonwood is known and feared to be the home of a single bloodthirsty wolf who prowls the inner bounds of its secluded territory in search of hapless travelers to rip limb from limb.

The wolf is Yukhei, and he doesn’t care for the legends and bedtime stories soiling his name. Their words alone are harmless and even entertaining when Yukhei sometimes catches wind of them, but the actions they incite are troublesome at best, life-threatening at worst. What was once a peaceful existence for Yukhei has become a regular pain in his tailbone, and it grows more frequent with each passing day.

Even now, patrolling northern quarter of the forest, Yukhei isn’t safe. The itch of his bronze fur rising on ends, the sleek whistle of a lethal projectile piercing the breeze, fragrant bloodlust mingling with the oily scent of human—

This is another summer midnoon’s exercise.

A metal bolt buries into the ground as Yukhei jumps left, his claws scoring through the forest litter. He looks at the angle of the bolt, then up into the trees where a brazen flash of red clashes with the leaves. A second more and the red is gone, a lonely falling leaf the only evidence it was there to begin with. Yukhei’s hindlegs spring underneath, whipping him past the leaf before it touches the ground.

Yukhei would let them escape in the past, the humans who came to take his life, but not anymore. He has too many scars from the few who’ve returned and caught him off guard. He has to scare them away if he wants to protect his life.

The red figure is quick and limber, bounding from branch to sturdy branch with ease. Yukhei chases below, heavy paws beating the dirt until he catches up. His green eyes scan for an opening, a break in the treeline to lag the red figure’s landing. When the red figure lingers midair for just a second too long, Yukhei throws his heavy body into the next tree and sends a violent shudder from its splintered trunk up to its canopy. The red figure misses their footing and tumbles down from the canopy.

An average human would be vulnerable in such a position, but the humans who hunt for Yukhei’s head aren’t average. A shy strand of sunlight peeking between the leaves glints off a smooth metal surface hidden in the billows of the falling red figure’s clothes. Yukhei narrowly evades the lethal slash of a blade as the red figure lands silently in a crouch with their cape playing in the wind. Their hood conceals all of their face save for a pair of thin lips and a narrow chin. A crossbow is holstered to their back and a hunting dagger is gripped tightly in their small hand.

There’s only a second’s chance to inspect the red figure before they surge forward, dagger poised to strike Yukhei’s hindleg. He twists on his forelegs to avoid it and snaps his jaws at the red figure’s arm, catching only air when the red figure rolls away. They don’t pause before striking for another limb, then another, intent on using their momentum to keep Yukhei on the defensive. They already missed their chance for a clean kill and plan to cripple him instead.

Yukhei doesn’t give them the chance, braving a shallow slash through his shoulder to barrel headfirst into the red figure’s stomach. He hears the breath leave their lungs as they slam back into a tree trunk and he lunges after them, but they’re winded only momentarily. They push off from the tree to escape Yukhei while stowing their dagger and dash away into the brush. Trying to outrun a wolf in his territory, it’s a move too stupid not to be deliberate. The urge to capture running prey is strong, but Yukhei controls his speed as he chases the red figure, certain they’ll use his instincts against him.

Not much later, he’s proven right when the red figure unhooks their crossbow, spins on their heel, and fires a bolt all in one smooth motion. Had Yukhei ran any faster, the bolt would’ve pierced clean between his eyes. He ducks and flinches as the bolt flies through his fur.

The red figure is quick to reload and Yukhei is on the defensive again. Their accuracy with the crossbow is absurd and Yukhei struggles to close in, the red figure dancing out of reach with each reload until they find themself out of new bolts. They search the innards of their cape frantically and Yukhei lunges, biting at their armed hand. His fangs only scrape at knuckles, but the red figure values their hand more than the crossbow and drops it. Yukhei doesn’t hesitate to pounce on the them while they’re unarmed.

His paws land on the red figure’s shoulder and pin them flat to the ground, the impact knocks the hood away from their face, and Yukhei is viciously snarling into the face of a young man. The hood covered blond hair cropped short and unkempt, perpetually curious eyebrows and cheekbones sharper than the edge of a blade. What strikes Yukhei most is the young man’s eyes, as richly red as wine and hauntingly empty. Yukhei bares his fangs and drool spatters the young man’s face, but his eyes are unblinking and show no fear or disgust. His shoulder moves under Yukhei’s paw, struggling to reach for his sheathed dagger.

The other humans screamed and begged for their lives at this point, ran off with gashes spread through their fragile flesh as warnings. This young man isn’t the same, Yukhei can smell his unwavering resolve. He won’t stop until he takes Yukhei’s life.

It’s not in Yukhei to kill if he can avoid it, but this young man isn’t leaving him much choice. He has one last tactic before resorting to the worst. His fur is already receding into his skin, bones snapping and reshaping, the paws pinning the young man down replaced by wide hands. The hulking wolf is gone and a towering man sits in its place, his scowl no less ferocious than the wolf’s snarl.

“Give it up,” he growls from the depths of his chest. “I’m only tellin’ ya once.”

Finally, the young man reacts. The red fades from his now ocean blue eyes and his eyebrows hike up, Yukhei’s new appearance shocking him into out of unresponsive state. “Huh? You… you changed?” the man stammers. His eyes roam to the remnants of Yukhei’s previous phase—tall ears high on his head and a tail swaying behind him, forearms covered in coarse fur down to his thickly-clawed fingers, legs that resemble the wolf’s hindlegs from mid-thigh down to his massive paws. “Are you… still the wolf?” The man has stopped trying for his weapon, but there still isn’t any fear in his scent.

“Yeah, I am, and I’m gettin’ awful tired of dealin’ with this. You. All of your kind.” His grip on the young man’s shoulders tightens threateningly.

The man winces but isn’t distracted from his wide-eyed marvel. “J-Jumping jackrabbits! That was incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it. How’d you do that?”

His enthusiasm throws Yukhei for a moment. Yukhei leans in close to him and growls, “You don’t listen well, huh? I don’t know why you’re here. I don’t much care. Humans ain’t welcome here. Get out. _Now_.”

The young man frowns, unmoved by Yukhei’s demand. “What? Oh, no, I can’t do that. You’re the Bronze Wolf. I can’t leave until you die,” he says with unsettling nonchalance.

Yukhei snorts. “Look at where you are. Think you got a chance at killing me?” With Yukhei’s weight on the young man’s upper body and sitting on his thighs, he’s practically immobile.

The young man realizes this, blushing after he bucks uselessly under Yukhei’s bulk. “Um… no, not like this. But I will! And I won’t stay here, so you don’t have to worry. My contract is to kill you, so once that’s done, I’ll be out of your forest lickety-split. Promise.”

“Con-tract?” Yukhei repeats. The other humans never mentioned anything of the sort after he cornered them, but most were more panicked in Yukhei’s presence than this one. “What’s that? And what’s it got to do with me?”

After some hesitation to reveal more, the young man says, “Well, contracts are sort of like, ehm, requests we get from all over Müner, and we’ve received _lots_ of requests to slay you, the traveler-eating wolf with fur like bronze metal.” He bites his lip nervously and glances to the side. “I guess there’s no harm in telling you this since you’ll die soon anyway.”

“No, I don’t think that’ll happen anytime soon. If you’re lookin’ for a human-eater, you’ve got the wrong damn wolf,” Yukhei snarls at the man. He has no problem roughing up anyone who steps in his territory, but human meat is low on his list of preferred meals, somewhere between rat meat and carrion. “So you can go tell all your little friends to keep away from me.”

Unfortunately, his honesty falls on deaf ears. “You shouldn’t lie, you know. Even to save your own life.” The young man’s scolding frown is so sincere, Yukhei is almost too incredulous to be irritated—almost.

After so long of sleeping with one eye open, tensing up at his own shadow, feeling ill-at-ease on his own land, all because of one groundless mentality founded by the very race he tries hardest to seclude himself from, Yukhei is rightfully angry. The patchwork of scars on his skin are from battles fought as an unwilling combatant. His rage burgeons after hearing the accusations, and only his honor keeps him from becoming the monster he’s been named.

The young man underneath him isn’t convinced, so Yukhei tries another approach. “All right, all right, say I am this big bad wolf of yours. What’s keepin’ me from swallowin’ you whole?” He dips down to skate his nose up the column of the young man’s throat to the lobe of his ear, warm breath curling over unblemished skin when Yukhei rumbles in feigned hunger. Belladonna petals, smoky gunpowder, freshly spilt blood, the man has the scent of a slaughter. “Throat o’ yours is pretty tender. Would be nothin’ for me to tear right through it, yeah?”

Besides a natural shiver from Yukhei’s breath, the young man doesn’t seem threatened. “Actually, I thought that was strange, now that you mention it,” he says and hums thoughtfully. “Mindless beasts like the bronze wolf shouldn’t even be able to talk to their food.”

Yukhei’s eyebrow twitches at the offhand slight, but he lets it slide while he’s making progress. He pulls up to meet the man’s eyes. “You’ve been tailin’ me for what? Two days now?” he asks and sniffs pointedly when the man’s eyes widen. “Seen me eat anything ‘sides deer? Maybe a rabbit if I could catch one?”

The young man grudgingly shakes his head. “Not that I saw, no… but—but that doesn’t prove anything! There just weren’t any around for you to eat.”

“Just, hear me out.” Yukhei starts to release the man so they can talk civilly but reconsiders his haste. “Uh, you’re not gonna come at me if I get up, are ya?”

The man thinks hard on it, scrunching up his already small face, and shakes his head. “No. Not yet, at least,” he says and, perhaps irrationally, Yukhei doesn’t doubt him. Yukhei rolls off to the side and the man sits up, grumbling as he massages his sore shoulders. “Why should I listen to you? You’re making this whole thing so difficult.”

“Because you’re tryin’ to kill me and you’ve got no proof! I don’t care what that flimsy con-tract of yours says.” Yukhei jabs the young man’s chest with an indignant finger. “Ever try seein’ with your own eyes instead of believin’ whatever cow shit stories you’re fed?”

The man haughtily crosses his hands over his chest to shield from Yukhei’s claw. “I don’t see how any of that would make you innocent.” He narrows his eyes with frosty contempt. “I trust my taskmaster’s word over _you_.”

“So let me prove myself.” As much as it insults Yukhei to bargain for the ownership of his own life, getting this man to vouch for him is currently his best option for ending the parade of humans trespassing in his part of the forest. “You only need to put a stop to whatever’s eatin’ all these travelers, right? If I find it, then you and your friends’ve got no beef with me.”

“It’s not that simple, you know. You’re the objective of the contract. It doesn’t matter if you’re not—well, wait, maybe?” The idea has never crossed the young man’s mind as possible, Yukhei can see from the uncertainty in his once hardened eyes. “The objective _is_ the culprit, so… huh. If it’s not you, I suppose you could be right? I’m not super sure about this, to be honest.” He scratches his head. “Um, I think I’d have to check with my taskmaster.”

Yukhei prods the man’s brow, right where his furrowed eyebrows have given him a wrinkle. The man squawks and bats his hand away. “Still can’t think for yourself, huh? Shame.”

The man frowns, easily taken in by Yukhei’s goading. “ _I_ think you should die. But… if you aren’t the one responsible, it technically should invalidate you as the objective.”

That, Yukhei can work with. He stands tall, cracks his neck and loosens his shoulders as he gears up for an interesting hunt. “Good to hear. Just sit pretty then, I’ll find your culprit in two, three days tops.”

“Heck no! I’m not leaving you alone!” The young man jumps to his feet, glaring up at Yukhei with bravery someone who only reaches the unimpressive height of Yukhei’s shoulders shouldn’t have. “You’ll just run away. I’m not chasing you down again.”

Yukhei leans down with a glare of his own. “I don’t need a guardian. You’ll slow me down.”

The man puts his fists on his hips and rises on his toes until his forehead meets Yukhei’s. “I. Don’t. Give a hoot. Either you let me come with, or we finish this right here.”

There’s a silent war between them as the foliage whistles overhead, both their gazes stubbornly resolute, and as much as Yukhei wants to be fully annoyed by this tenacious little human, he can’t help but be amused by him as well. He’s faced off against burly men and grisly women twice this young man’s size with only half of his guts. In a different setting, in a different mood, Yukhei might not mind meeting such a unique man.

“Suit yourself, lil’ rabbit.” Yukhei finally concedes with a dubious lick of his fangs. “Just don’t go stabbin’ me in the back.”

“Mark,” the man introduces himself and politely extends his hand. “Mark Lee. It’s, well, nice to meet you.”

Without the excitement of battle distracting him, Yukhei can actually get a good look at his new _partner._ Mark is draped in a brilliant red cape that hangs down to his waist, secured around his neck by a wide bowtie and stringed pompoms. His long-sleeved white blouse has ruffles billowing down the front before it’s wrapped by the black corset cinching his waist, followed by a pair of small red trunkhose that gather high on his thighs. Despite their scuffle, the white stockings covering his calves are as pristine as his blouse and his black loafers similarly spotless.

Opposite Yukhei, who wears only a grimy pair of trousers shredded below the knee and tattered sash around his waist, Mark looks glaringly unfit for the hardships of battle. It must work to his advantage as a killer, presenting the portrait of innocence only to strike once his prey’s guard is down. There’s a sudden, phantom ache in the center of Yukhei’s back.

Mark is still waiting for Yukhei to shake his hand. Yukhei’s gaze slides lazily from Mark’s small hand to the earnest eyes waiting patiently for him. “Yukhei,” he says and sidesteps the offer, knocking Mark aside as he walks past.

He plans on leaving immediately, but a hesitant hand on his elbow stops him. Mark has rosy cheeks when Yukhei turns back to him. “Sorry, it’s just, I forgot something. Back there.” He points in the direction of where Yukhei first spotted him and laughs sheepishly while scratching his head. “Could you wait a moment? I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t actually wait for an answer and Yukhei watches him run back to the treeline. Mark leaps between the nearest cluster of trees, kicking off the trunk of one and again off another until he’s high in branches again. Not long after being hidden in the canopy, he hops down to the ground, noiseless, this time with a wicker basket hanging over the crook of his arm. An array of smells hits Yukhei’s nose as the basket nears him, only a few of them of food.

“Okay.” Mark stops in front of Yukhei and smiles, unduly chipper. “You’re leading the way, right? Let’s mosey!”

Perhaps it was idealistic for Yukhei to think he could avoid learning anything about Mark, to think that he’d have a choice in the matter. It’s inevitable that an afternoon spent in Mark’s company is all it takes for Yukhei to see how unpredictable Mark is.

A sharp contrast from this morning, Mark is docile, even friendly as they travel toward the Ylfin Valley Pass, as if they hadn’t been at each other’s throats a short while ago. He never makes it more than a few steps without opening his mouth to make a cursory comment about the warm summer breeze, to coo admiringly at a brightly colored cluster of mushrooms, to greet the swallowtails and flycatchers that perch gingerly on his shoulders and in his hair before fluttering away. Yukhei has sunk his fangs into more immoral rabbits, and it wouldn’t take much to convince Yukhei the bloodthirsty red figure from earlier was a figment of his daydreams…

… if only the crossbow clinging threateningly to Mark’s back isn’t a diligent reminder.

“I’ve never been this deep in the forest before. It’s a lot more peaceful than I imagined, given the stories about this place,” Mark says, trying for another bout of idle conversation. “It must be nice waking up this close to the birdsongs. I think I’d become a morning person.”

The only response he gets is Yukhei’s wide paws hitting the dirt.

Mark is undeterred and keeps talking. “I think I’ll go and gather some fruits when we stop to rest. The berries on that bush look pretty ripe, don’t you think?” He points to a bush far right on the trail. “Gosh, I don’t recognize that color. Do you think they’re all right to eat? I’m not much for meat, but I suppose it’d be a safer bet.”

Again, Yukhei ignores him. Again, Mark persists.

“Say, weren’t you going to lead us out of your territory? We’re heading deeper into the forest, aren’t we?”

“The whole forest ain’t mine. Only the northern quarter,” Yukhei finally grunts in answer, hoping it placates some of Mark’s relentless curiosity.

“Really?” Mark has a puzzled expression on his face. “But I’d heard you usually terrorize the Ylfin Valley pass to the southeast. Shouldn’t this whole forest be yours?”

Yukhei snorts. “You all’re full of bad info, huh?” The Ebonwood is strictly divided between its dwellers—the family of brown bears who sleep between the Ebony River’s length and the foot of the Ylfinician Mountains, the large elk littered around the western and southern edges of the forest, and the aggressive singular of boars who guard the center. Manmade trails like the pass through the mountains are untouched and travelers aren’t given attention so long as they don’t stray too far. Yukhei may have different motivations than the Ebonwood’s other dwellers, but the aversion to humans is shared among them.

“I don’t understand. How is only a part of the forest yours?” Mark asks.

“’Cause only that part is mine.”

Of course, that doesn’t satisfy Mark’s insatiable curiosity. Just from the rise of his eyebrows, Yukhei can feel the avalanche of questions before they come. “But someone had to have given it to you, right? How do you just decide to split up a forest? Can other animals here turn into half-humans like you? What about—?”

“Agh! Freakin’ shuddup already!”

Yukhei’s outburst stuns Mark into a momentary stop and Yukhei trudges on without looking back. Mark has to take quick steps to catch up to him, stumbling over tree roots and half-buried stones.

“Geez, you don’t have to be so rude,” he mumbles once he’s at Yukhei’s side, even has the gall to pout a little. “I just thought it’d be nice if we could be friends. Since we’re traveling together and all.”

“You’re tryin’ to kill me,” Yukhei reminds Mark in a flat tone.

Mark sighs, exasperated. “Yeah, I know that, but it’s not like it’s personal or anything.”

This time, it’s Yukhei’s turned to be floored and watch Mark stroll ahead with disbelief in his eyes. “Wha—not personal? My _life’s_ not personal?! Fuckin’ crazy. You even hear yourself?”

Sensing his own poor choice of words, Mark awkwardly scratches his cheek and explains himself. “I mean, it’s not like I’d hunt you without a contract. You don’t seem so bad. Plus, if you’re telling the truth, I have no reason to kill you anymore. So, er, yeah.”

Mark keeps walking after he’s said his piece, the issue deemed resolved. Yukhei follows behind, shaking his head and muttering, “Unbelievable,” under his breath. There’s no use in trying to reason with Mark’s distorted gradient of morality, apparently. Yukhei starts to think it would be less of a headache to abandon Mark and find the culprit as a Full wolf, then his eyes wander lazily down to Mark’s thighs, where ample muscle ripples with every step Mark takes.

He suddenly remembers why he wouldn’t mind meeting Mark under different circumstances and reconsiders.

“Hm, I dunnooo.” Yukhei’s stretches his words into a playful drawl and licks his fangs again. “Maybe I’m thinkin’ I should try somethin’ new. Broaden my palate. Heh.”

Faster than Yukhei’s eyes can catch, Mark’s head snaps Yukhei’s way and he grips the hilt of the dagger at his hip with resolute strength. The sparkling blue in his eyes gone, a frosty red depth replacing it, and Yukhei panics.

“Hey! Joking! I was jo-king!” He waves his hands yieldingly, hoping to avoid another fight so soon. “They don’t got jokes where you’re from or somethin’?”

Fortunately, Mark hasn’t fallen too deep into his murderous state to be pulled out and Yukhei heaves a relieved sigh when the ocean returns to Mark’s eyes. He doubts changing phases would curb Mark’s bloodlust twice.

“Don’t joke like that!” Mark whines and stomps his foot, unhappy with being fooled. “I thought you were going to eat me or something!”

Most times, Yukhei has the common sense to learn from his mistakes, avoid pitfalls and snares where they’re clearly lain. This isn’t one of those times. He’s a lone wolf in title but he’s not always opposed to quick moment of company, just particular on the whos and whens and whats. “Wasn’t gonna _eat_ you, just…,” Yukhei shrugs, a sauntered step closer to Mark with every word until he’s leering down into curious eyes, “… a taste. Y’know?”

He likes to think he’s easy on the eyes, if his reflection in the river holds any value, so his pride is stung when his proposition is met with a blank stare. He clears his throat, “You… get what I’m sayin’, yeah?”

Mark tilts his head, then laughs with his faced scrunched in unintentionally cruel merriment. “That’s strange. What a strange thing to say. You’re kind of nutty, huh?” He keeps walking, oblivious to how Yukhei’s sulking ears are flat against his skull. “That’s why I like you.”

Yukhei isn’t a complete stranger to rejection, the furrier highlights of a Waning wolf don’t appeal to everyone, especially not humans, but Mark hadn’t given him even a thought. Perhaps Yukhei’s approach hadn’t been direct enough for Mark to catch his meaning. Not that Yukhei needs to scratch his itch immediately, but it’d make their tentative partnership easier to bear if he had something to look forward to after hours of listening to Mark gab on and on about fruits and birds.

They continue through the forest with Yukhei’s guidance, Mark still voicing his interest in any oddly colored flower or rare bug that catches his eye, while Yukhei responds only in distracted grunts and hums, concentration split between silently scheming for a way into Mark’s puffy breeches and the looming threat behind him.

Another human has been following their trail for a while now, less than a few minutes away from catching up to them. Mark has yet to notice and Yukhei doesn’t alert him, wary of a potential trap. He gathered from Mark’s explanation that these hunters are from the same faction. It wouldn’t be a surprise to find out Mark has reinforcements at the ready.

The clash begins sooner than Yukhei expects. Mark’s body tenses the instant he senses the new arrival, stopping him in his tracks ahead of Yukhei. Yukhei stops too, attention on the potential thread before him and the certain behind him. A single misstep and this ambush could be his last row.

Mark turns around, but his vacant eyes aren’t on Yukhei for once. The other hunter is hidden behind the girth of a tree trunk leftmost of the path they traversed and Mark is calmly awaiting their next move.

The stretch of taut fiber springs them into action. Yukhei drops to the ground with his chest pressed into the dirt while Mark lunges forward with his dagger drawn, slashing the space above Yukhei. Two halves of a cleaved arrow fall to the ground and Yukhei rolls aside in time to see Mark’s dagger sail through the air, lodging clean into an archer’s throat. Her bow clatters to ground as she struggles desperately to remove the dagger, gasping wetly as blood gurgles from the corners of her mouth and swells in her lungs. Soon, she collapses against the tree and crumples between its roots.

Yukhei raises his eyebrows at the archer, then at Mark who’s steadily coming back to his senses. “The hell was that? You protected me!” he says as he stands up.

Mark nods. “Of course, I did. I couldn’t let her complete my task for me.”

He approaches the archer’s corpse and steps on her shoulder, needing leverage to tug his dagger free. Blood clings to the blade and he wrinkles his nose, flicking the blade to clean it and speckling the tree bark with red droplets.

“Ain’t she one of yours?” Yukhei asks when Mark returns, watching him fish around inside in his peculiar basket for a red handkerchief. “Didn’t even hesitate to take her out. Sheesh.”

Mark shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. If she wanted to be my partner, she would’ve talked to me instead of aiming for you.” He drags the cloth slowly over the blade and holds it up to the sunlight, smiling when it gleams. “Once a huntsman accepts a task solo, we have no allies or friends. The hunter who completes the task is rewarded with glory, no matter how they complete it. If she’d had a clear shot, she would’ve killed me too.”

Once he’s satisfied, Mark sheathes his dagger and stands with his basket in hand. His sweet smile is unnerving, so easily adopted after shedding blood. but Yukhei won’t argue when he doesn’t have to dirty his own hands.

“Oh jeez, it’s getting kind of late,” Mark comments, looking up at the red and gold evening sky. “Should we find somewhere to set up camp?”

As the sun nestles into the forest’s crown, Yukhei trots back to the clearing Mark scouted earlier, a luckless rabbit dangling from his maw by the neck. A fire is already crackling when he returns and Mark is sitting on a length of red cloth that looks too luxurious to be dirtied. He smiles when he sees Yukhei, so genuine that Yukhei’s steps falter in surprise.

“Welcome back!” Mark greets as Yukhei lies on the opposite side of the fire, ravenously tearing into his meager meal. “I didn’t expect you to come back on four legs, but I guess it makes sense. It’s probably easier to catch stuff when you’re all wolf’d up, huh?”

While Yukhei was hunting, Mark had gathered several handfuls of berries to accompany his spread of thin biscuits, dried vegetables and peppered cheese. They were among the plethora of scents Yukhei picked out from Mark’s basket, but the dangerous scents remain hidden from sight. Mark eats more than his slight figure would suggest, putting away his whole meal before Yukhei has finished licking the rabbit’s bones clean. A little meat in his diet would fill him easier, but Yukhei doesn’t doubt Mark could hunt himself a meal if it’s what he wanted.

With his stomach satisfied, Yukhei’s vital needs significantly narrow down and he’s back to staring at Mark’s sinewy thighs while Mark rummages inside his basket, wondering if he’d have more luck wedging his way between them as a New wolf. It’s a risky move—his Full and Waxing wolves have his full range of physical capabilities between them, his Waning wolf is only slightly handicapped with the boon of proper speech, but his New wolf appears and performs no different from the average human. Exposing his weakness around a huntsman could be a fatal blunder, even if Mark has made good on his word not to make any attempts on Yukhei’s life so far, yet his New wolf retains his chiseled human features with none from his wolf. He hasn’t failed to entice another being with it yet, and he’ll need his charms at full strength to—

“Would you like some?”

Mark’s voice snaps Yukhei’s eyes up, where Mark is holding a small pile of sweets bundled in a white cloth. “They’re cakes made with honey and liquor from the distillery near Fort Igrose,” Mark explains as he grabs a cake and offers it to Yukhei. “My taskmaster really loves them. She said it’s why she founded the huntsmen’s guild in Igrose. Isn’t that funny?”

It isn’t funny, but Yukhei also isn’t really listening to Mark’s rambling. The cakes don’t look very appetizing, but Yukhei won’t question a convenient opening to get closer to Mark. He stands and walks around the fire, changing into his Waning wolf once he’s in front of Mark. Mark is surprised to see him change up close yet doesn’t pull his hand away when Yukhei crouches and bites the offered cake, purposely grazing his lips against Mark’s fingers. Although it’s cloyingly sweet and sticks to Yukhei’s palate, he makes a show of licking his plush lips and holding Mark’s gaze. He deserves something for the attempt, a flushing of cheeks, a stuttering a breath, a widening of eyes.

He gets nothing, not even the scent of any arousal other than his own. Mark grins cheekily at him, “Good, huh?” and eats a cake himself. Yukhei’s tail droops to the ground and he glares at Mark’s obtusely happy face. “Want another? There’s plenty to share.”

“No,” Yukhei answers immediately, humorlessly. “Rather taste somethin’ else, if that’s all good with you.”

Mark stops chewing. His cheek is still stuffed with food. “Wha?”

Yukhei lifts his hand and draws the tip of a single claw down Mark’s firm thigh. “You. Here.”

“Didn’t you say something like this earlier? Why would— _ohh!_ ” The light of clarity shines on Mark’s face. He swallows the lump of cake before clueing Yukhei in. “I get it now! Dogs do something like this all the time. You’re just getting familiar with me, right? Why didn’t you just say so, silly?”

“I’m not a fuckin’ _dog!_ ” Yukhei roars, annoyed by how effortlessly Mark can insult him. His volume doesn’t faze Mark, who’s busy packing leftover food into his basket. “Whatever you got in your dizzy head about wolves, we’re nothin’ like—!"

“So, you don’t want to, then?”

Yukhei’s righteous tirade cuts short when Mark lies back on his cloth, arms folded behind his head and shoes kicked off to the side. His knees are bent and spread wide, wider than most humans are capable of. His trunkhose rear further up his thighs, cords of muscles riled under his smooth skin. He’s a feast for Yukhei to devour whole and he doesn’t even realize it, his expression of patient curiosity telling Yukhei the lust isn’t mutual between them.

While his pride may be chipped, Yukhei’s prick is made of harder stuff and his desire quashes leftover annoyance. He crawls between Mark’s legs and doesn’t hesitate to indulge himself, dipping down to drag his tongue from the hem of Mark’s breeches up to the bend of his knee and nibbling the tender area. His furred palm kneads the other thigh, claws light when they skate over Mark’s skin. If Mark doesn’t desire him yet, Yukhei will do his damnedest to change that. All he has to do is find any spot that makes Mark sing and reel him in.

It almost seems like he’s making progress when Mark squirms against his mouth and sighs, deep-chested and pleased, but not even the faintest aroma of arousal hits Yukhei’s nose and the front of Mark’s breeches is woefully flat.

“That feels nice,” Mark comments, voice more sluggish than before. “Like some kind of… mouth massage.”

Not the best praise Yukhei’s ever received, but it’s a start. He redoubles his efforts, suckling kisses circling the width of Mark’s thigh, shallow teeth marks left in the curve of every defined muscle, a patchwork of pink and red bruises following Yukhei’s mouth. He loses time, so engrossed in his work, motivated by every soft sound Mark makes until the breaths come a little too regularly, a little too loudly.

Yukhei quickly detaches his lips from Mark’s skin and straightens to see the dying firelight cast a glow over Mark’s serene sleeping face, hearty snores coming from his parted lips. From the looks of it, he passed out right after his compliment.

Defeated, Yukhei whines and his forehead drops to Mark’s hip. “Unbelievable.”

Mark babbles something and turns his head away.

The fading odor of iron rouses Yukhei.

He springs to his feet, fur bristled and his chest rumbling with a simmering growl. It’s barely the first stretch of dawn, the sky above paling to the east. Yukhei’s sight isn’t hindered in the forest nightscape, but there’s nothing to be seen no matter where he looks. Still, he trusts his nose and keeps stationary, patient.

His growl alerts Mark, who draws his dagger and rises to a defensive crouch immediately, eyes bleary yet vigilant. After frantically searching the clearing, he relaxes and gives Yukhei a confused look. “You scared the jeepers out of me! What’s wrong?” he whispers. Yukhei doesn’t expect him to sense anything amiss—had Yukhei not slept as a Full wolf, he might’ve been caught off-guard too.

 **“Impressive nose, Bronze Wolf!** ”

A foreign voice rings around the clearing, overly jovial. Mark tenses, shock and recognition clear on his face. It’s another huntsman.

“ **I touched only a single wire with my bare hand, but you caught wind of it immediately,** ” the voice compliments, its source obscured no matter how Yukhei trains his ears. “ **You though, Red Hood… keeping the objective alive? Napping on the job and leaving those yummy cakes unguarded? S’not your style.** ”

Mark looks at his basket and rifles through it quickly, pulling out a bundle of honey cakes much smaller than it’d been last night. The huntsman somehow snuck up on them undetected, had the opportunity to kill them both yet left them alive. Yukhei feels an unfamiliar amount of uneasiness that only mounts when he sees Mark’s uncharacteristically troubled frown.

A human who can sneak up on them is no easy opponent.

Yukhei changes to his Waning wolf, risking showing a weaker phase so he can get speak with Mark. “They another one of yours, _Red Hood?_ ” he asks in a low growl.

Mark nods as he stands. “Yes. More so than the last one.” He takes a stone from the fire ring and starts walking the perimeter of the clearing with slow, measured steps. He’s looking for something on the ground, Yukhei notices while following him.

“How’s that?”

Mark stops abruptly, squinting past the trees at a patch of dirt covered by wilting leaves. The patch seems insignificant at first glance, then Yukhei notices how irregular the pattern of fallen leaves is, how densely arranged they are over such a small area. Mark lobs the stone there and it clangs a hidden plate of metal.

Immediately, iron spikes attached to thick wires erupt from the pile of leaves, each one spearing into the trunks of the surrounding trees. It’s a sadistic trap, not aiming for vitals but sure to leave its victim strung high and bleeding to death slowly, drop by drop.

Amused laughter surrounds them, curling around the branches and ruffling the leaves. “ **Hah! That one was a gift. No points for finding it, I’m afraid,** ” the voice says.

Mark explains himself when they return to camp. “I told you that huntsmen have to completely contracts, but it’d be better to tell you why we do all this.” He’s unhurriedly packing his things regardless of the danger awaiting them. Yukhei hopes there’s a good explanation for that too. “At Fort Igrose, we have a sort of currency that gives us access that normal currency can’t. If a huntsman wants status, wants wealth, wants power, then they need to shore up a bunch of guild capital.”

The concept of currency is lost on Yukhei, but he understands human greed well enough to not need clarification. Mark sweeps dirt from his sleeping cloth as he continues. “There are a couple ways to earn capital just by helping the guild grow, but the best way by far is by taking contracts, as many and as tough as you can handle. More and more hunters are taking that route, but it’s not easy or safe, so our numbers rise as quickly as they fall. Some of us have been with the guild for a while and have a lot more capital than normal. The taskmaster calls them the Einherjar.”

“So, they got more than a couple kills under their belt, I reckon,” Yukhei says. Remembering Mark’s earlier answer, he adds, “You’re one of ‘em too, then. An Einherjar.”

There’s accusation in his words that Mark either ignores or doesn’t notice. “Not all contracts are like yours, but yes. There are, um, ten of us. I didn’t really choose the name for myself, but I’m called the tenth Einherjar, Red Hood. The hunter stalking us now is the eighth, Tsuchigumo.”

“Agh, another pain in the ass.” Yukhei grumbles. He already risked his neck taking Mark down. If their ranks are any indication of expertise, Yukhei doesn’t expect to make it out of this encounter unscathed.

Once he’s prepared, Mark hooks his basket over his elbow and gives Yukhei a grim look. “The reward for your contract must be even higher than when I left if Tsuchigumo’s accepted it. This could get hairy.”

Dawn is coming quicker and grants sparse light between the trees. Mark takes out his dagger and slashes at empty air, each followed with a small step forward. Yukhei follows behind, curious but not a stranger to Mark’s outlandish habits. “Don’t tell me this fella’s invisible.”

Mark shoots him an incredulous look over his shoulder before continuing ahead. “Of course not. I’m looking out for spider webs.”

His response raises additional questions, but Yukhei gets his answers when sunlight gleams off a fine thread stretched between two trees. Mark’s presses the flat of his blade underneath the thread and the resulting shriek of metal against metal abrades Yukhei’s ears.

“It’s one of his, sharp enough to cut deep without much pressure,” Mark explains as he cuts through the thread. “They can be pretty gnarly if they hit the right spot. Or, I guess the wrong spot? It’ll help to keep an eye out for them.”

There are several more spider webs at varying heights the farther they move, some high enough to slice through Yukhei’s neck, others level with Mark’s thigh, all poised to result in fatal bloodletting with one misstep. The precise positioning is as impressive as it is frightening.

It’s slow work disposing of them all while avoiding injury, and while Mark is unruffled by their slow pace, Yukhei gets antsier the further dawn edges into the forest. Tsuchigumo’s eyes have followed them since they left the campsite, the fur on Yukhei’s ears hasn’t settled since, yet the hunter’s scent is expertly cloaked, his voice untraceable, and the forest doesn’t reveal his presence. Even as a Full wolf, Yukhei’s senses are of no use, a handicap he’s never known. He’s losing a battle he hasn’t even gotten to fight yet.

“It just won’t let up,” Yukhei growls as his claw tears another thread in two. “Sneak’s got too much time on his dirty hands.”

“ **Hey now, no need for name calling** ,” Tsuchigumo’s reproving voice surrounds them again, jarring after so long spent silent.

Yukhei scowls into the trees. “Then come down here! You’re a warrior, aren’t ya? Fight me eye to eye if you’re after my head!”

“ **And face those beastly claws of yours? Eek, no thanks!** ”

The open amusement coloring Tsuchigumo’s words rankles Yukhei even more. He barrels impatiently past Mark and sets a new pace for Mark to stumble along with.

“Dirty coward, leavin’ his junk in _my_ territory,” Yukhei grumbles as his claws rip through a cluster of threads, and another after that. “If I get my claws on him…”

“Maybe we should slow down,” Mark hesitantly suggests from behind, eyes mindful of the forest floor. Yukhei ignores him and stomps on.

“That sneak’s got another thing comin’ if he thinks— _BUAAH-HAH!_ ”

Another step forward and the ground gives way to Yukhei’s weight, leaves flurried around him as he plummets into a freshly carved pitfall. His sudden descent stops when two hands catch his flailing arm and hold him steady, Yukhei dangling midair and dazed with his heart drumming a thunderous beat. The pit’s bottom is nearly shaded when Yukhei nervously scans it, but the sharp glint of metal caltrops is threatening between the falling leaves.

The grip on Yukhei’s arm tenses. “Rrgh, hey! I could use your help here!” Mark grunts from where he’s crouched at the pitfall’s edge, face screwed with the effort of holding onto Yukhei. He’s sturdier than he looks, but Yukhei’s weight pushes his strength past its limit. Once Yukhei has scaled the wall of the pit with Mark’s help, they collapse beside each other to calm their breaths, Mark from physical exertion and Yukhei recovering from his brush with certain death.

Tsuchigumo breathes a sigh between the trees. “ **Ahh, I had high hopes for that one** ,” he laments, then he’s gone again.

“Geez, that was a close one.” Mark climbs to his feet and brushes the dust off his reddened knees. “We have to watch ourselves around here. Even I don’t know all of his tricks.”

Mark offers Yukhei a hand to help him stand and Yukhei stares at it, a sudden bitter taste on his tongue from the foreign feeling of gratitude. He remembers that he’s a lone wolf, and a lone wolf shouldn’t need allies. Yukhei has fended for himself since the moment he was left alone in this forest and never wanted for aid of others.

The reality of not being able to survive this situation on his own disturbs who he’s been for so long at his core, especially since it means relying on the aid of someone who he doesn’t trust. Mark saved his life, continues to preserve it, but only to reap the rewards of ending it himself. He’s no different than Tsuchigumo, than the archer, than the countless other villains who’ve been tracking him for months. If Mark weren’t a means to a peaceful end, Yukhei wouldn’t bother with him.

Yukhei doesn’t owe Mark anything, least of all his respect.

He bats Mark’s hand away and stands on his own. “Watch your own damn self,” he spits and trudges away from the pit. Mark is unruffled and walks dutifully at his side.

Yukhei doesn’t let his foul mood deafen him to sound advice. Although the tangle of threads thins the farther they trek from camp, Yukhei would be a halfwit to think himself in any less danger. Tsuchigumo’s inaction is added suspense to an already perilous situation and Yukhei doesn’t see an end to it.

From how Mark keeps mumbling to himself, Yukhei gathers Mark is anxious to see Tsuchigumo’s next move as well. “Maybe… no… I guess? Or…,” is all Yukhei can hear, broken pieces of thoughts that don’t form an answer to their problem.

It doesn’t make sense to Yukhei when Mark hops in front of him and forces him to either halt or knock Mark aside. Yukhei strongly considers the latter.

“I think… I see something. Over there.” Mark points to a large tree with sturdy branches overhead, then he turns to Yukhei with a strange expression, determined and trusting. Yukhei doesn’t like it. “You stay here. I’ll go check it out.”

“What’re you sayin’? If you got a lead on him, I’m kickin’ this bum outta my quarter myself.”

“Wait, wait!”

Yukhei marches a determined step forward but Mark slows him with imploring hands on his chest, Mark’s feet skidding through the dirt against Yukhei’s unrelenting momentum. “Please, just wait a minute! I’m not even sure what’s over there! What if it’s just another trap we’re walking into?”

Being reminded of how blindsided he’d been by the pitfall stops Yukhei’s march. He frowns at Mark. “And you think goin’ it alone’s the smart play?”

Mark smiles and pats Yukhei’s chest. “I know my way around this kind of thing,” he says, impossible for Yukhei to deny. “Just let me handle it. And, um,” Mark rises on his toes with a sober expression and lowers his voice, “watch your back. In case anything happens. Seriously.”

Whatever the motive for Mark’s surge of flightiness is, Yukhei hasn’t got it figured out just yet. He keeps a keen eye open as Mark walks up to the unassuming tree, inspects it from its leaf-blanketed branches down to its gnarled roots, then takes a confident step forward.

As swift as the crack of a whip, a hidden cord winds around Mark’s ankle and snatches him off the ground, leaving him dangling upside-down from a bobbing branch. He loses hold of his basket and its contents spill to the ground beneath him, his arms and cape low enough to brush the dirt.

“Moron!” Yukhei shouts. “This your bright plan?”

“D-Don’t worry! I can just…” Mark grips the hilt of his dagger as he curls upward, slashing at the cord to the sound of scraping metal. Rather than hemp, the cord is braided with bundles of metal threads. “Oh. Yikes.”

Yukhei shakes his head. “You gotta be kiddin’ me.” If Mark hadn’t just bailed Yukhei out of a similar bind earlier, Yukhei would leave Mark where he hangs as a lesson.

Between trying to lure out their threat and thinking of ways to free Mark, Yukhei is in a swarm of jumbled thoughts. He’s caught off guard when a cold length of wire coils around his neck. His breath leaves in a gasp as the wire tightens and his hands fly to neck, clawing in vain to free himself. A kick to the back of his knee forces him into a kneel while the wire holds his torso taut. Mark cries out his name, but another voice takes Yukhei’s attention.

“Not so mouthy now, are you, Bronze Wolf?” Tsuchigumo coos into his ear.

Yukhei snarls and swipes uselessly over his head, his claws missing their mark. Tsuchigumo clicks his tongue and the garrote constricts punishingly, Yukhei wheezing for air while red beads of blood drip from his lacerated neck.

“No, no, you don’t get to be sore at me. I won fair and square, didn’t I?” Tsuchigumo says once he’s relaxed his grip. “Just be good prey and struggle for me a little, won’t you?”

The anger smoldering inside Yukhei promises to give Tsuchigumo more than a simple struggle. Yukhei’s weakened breaths grow ragged, a thick coat of fur sprouts from his skin and his fangs sharpen along with his snout, his limbs lengthen and the muscle under his fur broadens greatly. The vestiges of his human appearance disappear as Yukhei taps into his Waning wolf, a great bipedal beast with unmatched strength.

The change momentarily stalls Tsuchigumo and Yukhei uses it to his advantage. With his fur as a barrier under the garrote’s pressure, Yukhei thrashes against his noose with Tsuchigumo’s shorter body swinging from his neck, growling and clawing at his back while staggering around in a craze. He backs into a tree and slams Tsuchigumo into its trunk, finally dislodging the winded hunter and loosening the garrote from his neck.

There’s no sight of Tsuchigumo when Yukhei turns around, but the illusion is already broken. The scent of Tsuchigumo’s skin is plastered to his back, the metallic odor of Tsuchigumo’s blood on his claws and trails a circle around the very same tree. Yukhei drives his claw clean through the bark once he reaches the source, only narrowing missing Tsuchigumo, who ducks under the attack with a startled yip.

Tsuchigumo stumbles in a clumsy arc away from Yukhei and turns to him with a demeanor too flustered to match his early cheekiness. Now that Yukhei can see him, decorated in dirt and grass down his limbs, patches of tree bark around his torso, twigs and leaves tangled in his hair, it’s clear how he eluded even Yukhei’s senses. Only his soft eyes and downturned mouth are discernable underneath his camouflage.

“Ay, this is what I get for underestimating that nose of yours,” Tsuchigumo says and cradles his shoulder where Yukhei must have injured him. “I should’ve slit your throat while you slept, but I just had to have my fun. Too much temptation for any man to resist, I’d say.”

Yukhei ignores his teasing and takes a threatening step forward. Tsuchigumo takes a step back to take cover under another tree. He’s poised to flee once he finds an opening, one Yukhei doesn’t plan on giving him. Yukhei rears back, ready to charge at the slightest movement.

A gentle rustle in the tree above Tsuchigumo catches Yukhei’s attention. Faster than Tsuchigumo can react, Mark swings down from the nearest branch in a flash of red and kicks Tsuchigumo square in the back, pitching him to the ground in Yukhei’s path.

Tsuchigumo heaves a single breath before iron spikes spear through his chest and shoulder and hips, latching into nearby trees with Tsuchigumo spread midair along their wires. He’s hanging high enough that Yukhei can see the shock in his eyes, confusion at being skewered on his own hidden trap, then the light fades from them completely. His blood trails freely down the length of the wires and splatters over fallen leaves.

When Mark is certain they’re no longer in danger, he sighs with his entire body and slumps over. “Holy smokes. I didn’t think I’d reach you guys in time. Is your neck okay?”

To some small degree, it bothers Yukhei that he depended on Mark once again, that he would’ve fallen into another trap if Mark hadn’t been watching his back. He’s sulking when he’s a Waning wolf again, embarrassed of how he snubbed Mark earlier only to prove he hadn’t learned a thing about patience. Even if Mark didn’t take it to heart, Yukhei’s pride has taken a fresh wound.

“Didn’t think you’d manage to get yourself outta that tree.” Yukhei says as he rounds the carnage to approach Mark Mark, eying the leg that was bound. Mark’s stocking is ripped through and there’s a ring of torn and bleeding flesh around his ankle.

Mark looks at his wound as if only now realizing it exists. “Oh, right! It’s lucky I had my basket with me. The condensed swamp ooze I brought melted right through most of the branch, then I just had to," he makes a sawing motion with his hand, “through the rest of it. I could’ve made out a lot worse, honestly, but I think— _ack!_ Hey! What was that for?!”

After a chastising hit from Yukhei’s knuckles, Mark is rubbing the crown of his head and pouting at Yukhei. Yukhei isn’t sorry. “You pranced right up to that tree knowin’ you were in for trouble. The hell were you thinkin’?”

Mark has the decency to look sheepish. “Oh. Yeah. That. But... but it was the only way to lure him out! And it worked, didn’t it?”

Yukhei rolls his eyes. “Moron.” Mark puffs his chest out smugly, happy his little plan succeeded, and Yukhei can’t stop his lips from spreading in an amused smile.

Mark notices it before Yukhei does, tilting his head with a face filled with wonder. “Wow. I didn’t know you could smile.”

The moment doesn’t last. Yukhei clears his throat and brushes aside the naïve sense of camaraderie. They still have a goal to meet and can’t waste time complicating their partnership. “We still got plenty of daylight, can probably make it outta my quarter by nightfall. Got your funny little basket?”

“Ah, I didn’t have time to bring it. Could you wait while I go get it?” Mark takes a step past Yukhei and, although he tries to hide it, limps when he puts weight on his wounded leg.

Yukhei raises his arm in Mark’s path to hold him back. “Sit down a sec. I’ll look at your leg.”

Mark shakes his head. “You don’t have to. I’ve brought along some bandaging and salve for snags like these.”

“Siddown,” Yukhei commands again.

“But—!”

Rather than argue pointlessly, Yukhei grabs onto Mark’s shoulder and applies enough strength for Mark’s knees to buckle. Mark doesn’t put up a fight, sitting up against a tree and watching warily as Yukhei crouches in front of him. Yukhei’s hand hooks under Mark’s calf and lifts high, Yukhei distractedly noticing the lack of resistance from Mark’s joint. A polished shoe is tossed aside first, then the tattered pieces of Mark’s stocking as Yukhei assesses Mark’s wound. The damage isn’t severe, but his heel cord won’t heal properly over the hike they have ahead of them.

Yukhei pulls Mark’s leg in and drags his tongue over the wound, cleaning away smudges of blood and leaving a thick layer of saliva behind. Mark won’t heal as fast as Yukhei, but a fresh coat of wolf’s saliva will do him better than any poultice. Other than a weak wince, Mark is content letting Yukhei tend to his ankle. When he’s finished, Yukhei spits the blood off to the side and lowers Mark’s leg, his hand sliding deliberately down the length of Mark’s calf before releasing it.

Once his shoe is back on, Mark stands up to test his ankle. “Woah, it feels better already,” he claims after a few confident steps. “Thanks a lot!”

Hearing Mark’s gratitude and seeing it in the toothy grin on his face soothes Yukhei’s pride more than it should, makes him feel as if he’s evened the score between them. He shrugs and says, “Hurry and get your basket,” to keep himself from saying something he means, like _“You’re welcome.”_

**●●●**

**Author's Note:**

> [@twt](https://twitter.com/reinefleche)


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